The Notebook...Jon and Rebecca Version

Remember the romantic movie"The Notebook"?

The old couple living in a retirement community reflect on their life through the reading of a journal. This reading happens daily to stir the woman's failing memory. The husband re-enacts music, dancing and other tender moments to bring her back to him. He speaks in quiet, gentle tones and looks her in the eye searching her face for a sign that she remembers who he is.They are both dressed and accessorized beautifully each day and they freely roam the grounds where they live.

Jon and I are together in our home this week with physical infirmities. I can see glimpses of what it could be like when we are old. It isn't pretty either. First of all,  I am searching for pants that have elastic all the way around the waistband. Happily and sadly I can report that I don't own a pair of pants with that description. Jon is now looking for foods that are high in fiber to counter his pain meds. We have taken up scrabble on our ipads where we don't even speak to each other or have to be in the same state, physical or mental, to play. When we do talk, I speak quietly so I won't feel more pain in my back from the vocal reverberations. Jon talks loud.
Currently, I shower but pass on hair-do and make-up. I do brush my teeth. Jon was able to shower three days after his surgery. I stood back after day 2 and waved and smiled. He dwells down low with a knee injury and with my back injury I have to remain upright and high . Well honestly with our intense meds we are probably both high.

 Either way, there are no romantic moments or hopes of impromptu dancing between us. When we move about our surroundings there are involuntary grunts and gasps coming from our mouths. You know, old people sounds. If there is any kind of look into Jon's eyes for an extended period of time, it is because I have left my glasses somewhere I can't find them and I am trying to focus on his face.

In the more recent days, Jon has nearly passed out three times.  I sit and watch his face and lips become deathly white. I hand him food and wait to see if his lips turn pink. I realize if he goes down I will need to call 911. All I can do is stand by and watch to see if the phone call needs to be made to have someone come pick up my slumped over husband. I hope that if he goes down he is at least wearing something.

Ironically,  my parents have been taking care of us with rides and food which feels a bit backward to Jon and I. Humility is required for this when your parents are in better shape that you are. Psh.

Jon and I are far from Hollywood here with our notebook of injuries. We could be more  accurately described as two pitiful, middle- aged, (we'll see) achy, pill popping, gas passin', poorly clothed, slow moving people.

Sadly, we might have had some time to visit and slow down a bit this week. You know, just catch up with each other or watch Wheel of Fortune together. The problem is we haven't had that time because depending on when we have taken our medicines we fade in and out of consciousness throughout the day. I think we just need to time it better...or maybe not.